


Simply exist

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Rantaro and Mukuro are power besties [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Best Friends, But that's always the case when Junko is around isn't it, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Non-Despair AU, Non-Romantic Relationship, Platonic Relationship, Tragedy what tragedy, Trust, angst if you squint, mentions of a bad relationship, my kids hhh, non-romantic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 16:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19277095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Rantaro shrugs, trying not to look too much like it affects him, but Mukuro’s grey eyes pierce right through him as usual, and he drops what remains of his facade to pinch the bridge of his nose, slumping down. He probably radiates exhaustion, and he feels bad that she has to deal with it, but she’s seen him worse than this. “I thought maybe… but no, nothing. Not this time.” He shakes his head, but manages to meet her eyes. They’re not judgemental, or sad, though he notes that she looks disappointed, as though she was hoping as much as he was that he’d find something, which is validating. Still, he doesn’t want to just talk about himself. “How about you, how are things with her?”---Mukuro and Rantaro visit a cafe together and catch up.





	Simply exist

“It’s so cold,” Rantaro complains, tucking his scarf tighter around his neck. Mukuro snorts next to him, rolling her grey eyes, and he shoots a pout her way, but it’s hard for him to be really indignant in a moment like this. Despite the biting cold and the little painful pinpricks that are the snowflakes swirling around them, he’s feeling an overwhelming warmth in his chest. Of course, winter break might have something to do with it, but honestly, he’s never really been the type to get excited about the prospect of missing school. (He does that plenty.) “Can the weather make up its mind, please? It was so pleasant yesterday…”

 

“The real reason why you’ve never been to Russia comes out.” Mukuro teases, nudging him with her elbow. They’re walking towards a cafe, and both of them are pretty bundled up, but it’s so windy that Rantaro is jostled a little bit when her arm makes contact with his. She raises her eyebrows at him, as though concerned that she underestimated her own strength again, but he smiles to set her nerves at ease.

 

With a small laugh, Rantaro corrects her. “I mean, that and the fact that none of my sisters went missing in that area.” He might be forgetful and easily distracted, but he’s not stupid enough to have completely forgotten every place his sisters went missing. He’s never been to Russia, period, so why would his sisters be there?

 

“Okay.” Mukuro nods seriously. “I’m not entirely unconvinced that you just avoided it because you’re weak and you can’t handle the cold, but we’ll go with that.”

 

“I  _ can  _ handle the cold! I’ve slept outside in Stockholm! You know the resolve that takes?” He protests, then sputters when Mukuro starts laughing at him. “Fine, so maybe I prefer the warmer countries. Let’s just say that your specialty is the cold ones and stick to our strengths, a’ight?”

 

Clearing her throat and brushing flyaway strands of black hair out of her face, Mukuro nods at him, but her eyes are still shining with mirth. They move comfortably together; Rantaro with his relaxed gait, movements admittedly slowed by the cold but calm and reassured, and Mukuro with her feet barely touching the ground, nearly bearing the resemblance of a dancer. It is the type of agility that gives her such talent as a soldier. They have always seemed to work well as a team, but it’s taken a while for them to get to a place where they can be comfortable like this, totally aware of each other and with trust in the fact that they’re safe when they’re together.

 

It’s not that Rantaro meant to become best friends with Mukuro Ikusaba, but when he returned from Ho Chi Minh City with a half-healed stab wound, she was the only person who noticed enough to linger after dinner and make sure he got back to his room alright. It wasn’t just that gesture in particular that made Rantaro lower his guard, though. Mukuro is observant- perhaps another one of the traits that makes her a good soldier. She’s aware of his boundaries, and doesn’t ask questions when he doesn’t feel comfortable answering them. When she helped him back to his room that night, she didn’t ask what the circumstances were that had him getting stabbed. She just waited as he crossed the threshold between the hall and the room itself before heading back to the second year dorms.

 

She’s one of the only people in the world, aside from his direct family, who knows about his sisters. And  _ that  _ was an accident too. He didn’t mean for her to find out, but when he received a letter from an old contact in Nepal, it was Mukuro who found it on the floor where the staff member who was supposed to deliver the mail had accidentally dropped it. She hadn’t looked at it, but when she handed it to him and he tore it open, he barely realised that she was in front of him the whole time he read it.

 

And when he had finished, he figured… well, at that point, he owed her an explanation.

 

At any rate, Mukuro is by far his best friend at Hope’s Peak- maybe even the world, if she’ll let him call her as much. Thankfully, it’s not just been her being there for him, over the course of their relationship. Rantaro is more observant than people give him credit for, what with his relaxed disposition, so he’s usually able to pick up on it when those around him are troubled. Depending on the person, he’ll try to lend an ear or give them space, whatever he thinks they’ll need, but Mukuro is… different, some how. It’s hard for him to tell what she needs in the best of times.

 

Rather, it  _ was  _ hard for him to tell. At where they are now, Rantaro is confident that he could take a look at her in one of her moods and figure out what it is that’s been bothering her.

 

“There it is.” Mukuro clears her throat, pointing out the cafe she told him about last night, over text. It honestly seems like a pretty crummy establishment; Rantaro has far too much money and time to spend at such an inexpensive, out of the way place, but he trusts her opinion, and besides. It’s the smaller, less noticeable businesses like this one that are usually the best ones. (Also, he knows Mukuro’s reason for liking this one the most.) “C’mon, let’s go inside and dethaw you so we can continue unpacking your unhealthy fear of snow.”

 

“I’m not afraid of snow.” Rantaro huffs, but laughs when she does, because it’s still so hard to stay serious when she clearly isn’t. Besides, he isn’t really offended. He likes these moments, where she feels comfortable and relaxed enough to tease him without worrying about other people.

 

Mukuro grabs the door before him and pulls it open before he can even reach out a hand, so he thanks her and steps into the cafe. It’s delightfully warm, and the rich scent of coffee hits his nostrils immediately upon entering. The ambiance, despite his initial skepticism, is really nice. The lighting is dim enough that he doesn’t feel overwhelmed, but bright enough that he can see well, and casts a slight yellow-ish glow on everything. The furniture is all wooden, and there are a number of comfortable looking couches and armchairs around smaller coffee tables. As well as more traditional tables and chairs.

 

As for the cafe itself, it’s mostly empty, aside from a young couple sitting near the back, and an old man reading with his dog asleep at his feet. They seem like quiet people, soaking up a quiet moment, and Rantaro can’t help but inhale deeply, allowing his shoulders to relax as he slowly assimilates. Mukuro steps up next to him once he’s started unwrapping his scarf from his neck, green eyes flickering up and over the menu that is placed behind the counter. It seems like a pretty normal arrangement of things for a cafe, but there’s a section of drinks that he’s never seen before- and that’s rare for Rantaro, all things considered.

 

“Nice, huh?” Mukuro remarks idly, and Rantaro glances at her, wondering if she could tell that he wasn’t too into it at first. He smiles, though, and she smiles back, a little bit wryly, and he figures that she isn’t going to hold it against him, if she did notice. It’s unlikely that she wouldn’t have.

 

“You definitely could’ve chosen a worse place.” Rantaro assures her, fluffing out his hair and freeing it from where it’s trapped underneath his scarf. It’s not long, even in the slightest, but it could definitely use a trim. Mukuro takes that as an invitation to step up to the counter, grabbing the barista’s attention and placing her order. She does it without a moment of hesitation, making Rantaro think that she likely comes here often, and orders whatever she’s just ordered frequently. That would make sense.

 

He joins her at the counter, drumming his fingers on the hard surface and wondering what he should get. Once Mukuro has paid for her drink, she steps aside to let Rantaro order (generally one of them will pay for both of their drinks, and it’s Rantaro’s turn, but Mukuro wanted to pay for her own, this time) so he finds his voice and orders a lavender flavoured… something. It sounds appealing, at any rate, and the barista smiles at him when he orders it, so he can assume that it’s at least popular.

 

After he’s paid and rejoined Mukuro at the other side of the counter, he speaks again. “How long have you been coming here?” He asks casually, as though he’s not discussing a potentially volatile subject. He trusts Mukuro not to explode at him, though, and she does not disappoint.

 

“A couple years… maybe three.” She responds, as though it doesn’t make much of a difference to her. Rantaro knows better, but he chooses not to comment. “Longer than I’ve been at Hope’s Peak, though. Just a bit.” Mukuro bites her lip, glancing off to the side momentarily. “I told you about the day I found this place, right?” He nods, but she continues speaking anyway. “I needed time away from Junko, and she was in one of her moods, so I just… went out for a walk, and eventually I found myself here.”

 

“How did you get home again?” Rantaro asks, but he asks more out of habit than out of a genuine want to know, because of course he knows. Not just because she told him, but because he and Mukuro are similar in that way, too. A natural sense of direction will help you whether you’re an adventurer with his own agenda or a soldier who almost always ends up lost.

 

“I just figured out the way.” She responds with a shrug. Her drink, which appears to be some kind of hot chocolate, is placed on the counter, and she murmurs a thanks as she picks it up. “I’ll grab us a table.” Mukuro tells him, and Rantaro nods, watching her walk further into the cafe with her ever familiar walk.

 

It’s hard for him to believe that they’ve been best friends for almost half a year now. Sure, they probably shouldn’t have had much contact over summer vacation, and it feels like they almost just got off of it, but Rantaro found himself dialing her number much more often than he really intended to. Sometimes to talk about unimportant things, like about how the statue in the village he was staying at reminded him of her, or about a weird dream he had about wolves. But sometimes he called about other things, more serious things, that he wouldn’t even consider discussing with anybody else.

 

And Mukuro called, too. About how she saw somebody eating a bunch of avocados as a party trick and had to look away because they reminded her too much of him. About the earrings she found and bought for him on impulse, because she thought he’d love them. About Junko, and how insufferable and manipulative she is. About anything, really. Anything that Rantaro might call her with, Mukuro called him with. And it was nice, that summer, to have that kind of thing.

 

Since school got back in session, they’ve been practically attached at the hip, but it’s been pretty excellent, in Rantaro’s opinion. Even if some of his classmates have been shooting a lot of raised eyebrows in his direction, and more than one of Mukuro’s own peers has come up to him asking how he managed to get close to her despite all of their misgivings… Rantaro isn’t upset about it. He wouldn’t be, regardless of anybody else’s opinion. Mukuro is a good friend. Sometimes he feels like she’s the only person who he could ever trust to see him without a thousand walls up to protect himself.

 

His drink is ready, and Mukuro has found a table, so Rantaro dismisses his thoughts and crosses the cafe with his drink in hand to get to her. As he walks over, he takes a sip from the drink, and finds that he likes it. It’s warm, and bitter, but tinged with the taste of lavender (as promised). He quite likes it, actually, though he’s never really tasted anything like it before. Once he arrives at the table Mukuro chose, he silently drops into the armchair next to hers, smiling slightly and taking another sip before putting his drink down on the small table in front of them.

 

“So, then, the obligatory.” Mukuro clears her throat. “How’s it been?” It’s such an oddly phrased, general question, but Rantaro understands that she means his search for his sisters. Being the only person who knows about it, he’s really happy that she cares enough to be caught up with it, rather than discourage him, or pity him. Another reason why he and Mukuro are such good friends, he supposes.

 

“No results.” Rantaro shrugs, trying not to look too much like it affects him, but Mukuro’s grey eyes pierce right through him as usual, and he drops what remains of his facade to pinch the bridge of his nose, slumping down. He probably radiates exhaustion, and he feels bad that she has to deal with it, but she’s seen him worse than this. “I thought maybe… but no, nothing. Not this time.” He shakes his head, but manages to meet her eyes. They’re not judgemental, or sad, though he notes that she looks disappointed, as though she was hoping as much as he was that he’d find something, which is validating. Still, he doesn’t want to just talk about himself. “How about you, how are things with her?”

 

By ‘her,’ Rantaro means Junko, and Mukuro knows it. She considers his question, allows a frown. “Not bad, per se, but stressful.” She finally decides, shaking her head. “She’s still hung up on that despair thing. I mean, not that anything would’ve changed, but it’s been different lately. She’s been almost… manic. It’s hard to describe.” She runs a hand through her hair again, then pulls off her own scarf and jacket, tucking them back into the seat. “I know it’s stupid, but I worry about her getting herself hurt with all that stuff.”

 

“I’d be worried if one of my sisters was wrapped up in that.” God, Rantaro can’t even  _ imagine  _ how that might feel. To care as much as Mukuro does about a person like Junko… well, suffice to say that he doesn’t envy his best friend. Even so, though, he doesn’t pity her, either. Partly because he knows that she’s strong enough to manage her situation. But also because his pity would imply that he thinks she’s beneath him, and that her problems are beneath him. That’s far from the case. He has nothing but respect and admiration for her. More than that, really.

 

Chewing her lip, Mukuro nods, but she seems to hesitate nonetheless. “Yeah, I know. She’s just… so emotionally taxing. It’s hard for me to deal with, and I wish that I could just press a button that would make me stop caring about her.” As much as Rantaro thinks that’d be easier, he doesn’t think it would be entirely healthy. And he usually wouldn’t verbalise that thought, but because he trusts Mukuro, and because he knows that she wouldn’t get mad at him, he speaks.

 

“I don’t know if you’d be who you are without the compassion in you that makes you care so much for your sister. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, even if I do hate that caring about her puts you in so much pain.” True to form, Mukuro doesn’t get angry, but she does roll her eyes, snorting.

 

“Yeah, compassion.” She scoffs. “Me, the Ultimate Soldier. We’re known for our compassion, you know?” Rantaro smiles, but it’s a bit of a rueful smile, because they both know that they could continue to have this argument indefinitely. When Mukuro takes note of his expression, she concedes with a sigh, shaking her head. “But you’re right. Besides, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to make myself stop caring about my little sister. Feelings suck.”

 

Well, if that ain’t all. “They do.” Rantaro agrees. He’d add on something else, but there’s nothing he could say that Mukuro doesn’t already know, so instead, he drinks his drink and lets the silence stay.

 

One of the biggest reasons, Rantaro supposes, that this friendship works out so well for them, is their ability to sit like this, in silence, without worrying about judgement or what the other person might be thinking about them. They trust each other, and know that they can rely on each other to be kind, and understanding, and honest. If there is nobody else in this world who Rantaro can trust, at least he knows that Mukuro’s got his back. These long silences would be uncomfortable with anybody else, but with Mukuro, they’re familiar. They’re the kind of silences where Rantaro is able to just let go of his thoughts, and simply exist together with another person.

 

Eventually, perhaps because of the warmth of the cafe, his many layers of shirts, and the warm drink he just finished, Rantaro feels his eyelids start drooping. Just as he’s shifting around to try to figure out a better position for sleeping, Mukuro glances over, and with raised eyebrows, seems to figure out what he is unwilling to convey verbally. So without a word, she shifts her chair around to allow him to lean over and rest his head in her lap. This is something that, with anybody else, Rantaro would be uncomfortable doing, but he and Mukuro have done it plenty of times. It’s something that is as familiar to him as the silences, or the check-ins, or the phone conversations, or the little visits to cafes.

 

Which is why he wordlessly accepts her offer, closing his eyes as he puts his head down on her legs. Obviously, later, they’ll have to leave, because they’re busy people who lead busy lives, but maybe they can grab lunch together first. And before  _ that,  _ Rantaro figures now is as good a time as any to catch up on some much-needed beauty sleep. Besides, Mukuro isn’t going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> dsafjbdshj YES OKAY I UNDERSTAND I'm posting a lot of platonic relationship stuff and y'all just want your UWUWUWUWU yaoi dude WHATEVER
> 
> these two are my kids and I love them??? this was absolutely gonna be an Amamatsu ficlet but then I thought,,, what if I actually just wrote about Mukuro and Rantaro being friends instead?????
> 
> if you haven't seen their reactions in TDP you are MISSING OUT because my god adsbfjdbsfsdjb they're such quality friend material I don't
> 
> at any rate I'm glad that ur here @ anybody who came to this fic because I want my kids to be appreciated like the lovely little beans they are
> 
> Rantaro trusting people is my kink goodbye
> 
> hope you enjoyed kekekeke
> 
> comments are appreciated but tbh I'm not holding my breath on this one <333


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